


Bridges

by Gin_Juice



Series: picture book [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Gen, No Apocalypse, Post-Canon, or is she?, vanya's in a band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 18:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gin_Juice/pseuds/Gin_Juice
Summary: After averting the apocalypse, the Hargreeves family is working on getting closer, but Vanya's not cooperating.Exhibit A: She's in a band, and she didn't even tell anyone! Luckily, Allison got all the details, and they're going to crash her show.Or, well, she got some of the details...





	Bridges

Life post-Apocalypse had settled into a series of routines. The Hargreeves family never discussed it—they never discussed anything, because feelings were hard and ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ had been dirty words in their father’s house—but they were trying to mend things between them.

Luther and Five and Klaus and, by extension, Ben, were living at the Academy. Things were often tense, with days-long silences broken up only by arguments, but no one had been murdered so far. Klaus was staying sober, and working on developing his new abilities. Luther had found a passion for yard work, and was attempting to start a vegetable garden. Five spent most of his time scribbling equations in the library, and Ben tried to convince them all to watch movies or eat dinner together in his brief moments of tangibility.

Diego still officially lived at the gym, but had been spending an increasing amount of time at the house. Enough that he had spare clothing there, and a toothbrush, and an opinion on the brand of toilet paper that Pogo bought. He still wasn’t getting along with Luther, but every time some new disagreement sent him storming off, it wouldn’t be long before he came back.

Allison was dividing her time between the Academy and L.A. She’d accepted a voice acting gig to keep some money coming in and to allow her more flexibility, which she needed now that she had won supervised visitation with Claire. Another six months of that, her lawyer told her, and they could petition again for weekends.

Vanya kept her distance. She would make friendly overtures, but each time she took two steps towards them, she quickly took another step back.

She had given all of her siblings keys to her apartment, but rarely answered the phone if they called. She would promise to go get manicures with Klaus, and then at the last minute claim she was too tired. She and Allison had made plans for a Girls’ Day Out half a dozen times, but Vanya would always come up with a reason she couldn’t make it, or suggest they re-schedule, or simply not show up and say she’d forgotten.

That was how Allison found herself alone in her apartment on a Tuesday afternoon, clutching two cups of coffee and listening to the phone ring.

She looked at it dubiously. Vanya definitely wasn’t there—she’d already walked through all of the rooms calling for her. Should she pick up?

She set the coffee down on the kitchen counter and drew closer. It could be a telemarketer, but what if it was a prospective student? What if it was Vanya herself, calling from a payphone to let Allison know she’d been held up by some errands?

“Hello?”

“Hey! Vanya?” It was a harried male voice on the other end, a voice Allison didn’t know.

“No, this is her sister.” She leaned against the wall and wound the cord around her finger. “Vanya’s out right now. Can I take a message?”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” the man said distractedly. “Tell her Jim called, and that Tony broke his hand dicking around on a riding mower, so she’s gotta play tonight for sure. Seven sharp at The Rose Tavern on 29th, and _be on time_.”

“Play…?” Allison echoed.

“Yeah, she has to—“ His voice grew quieter, like he was speaking away from the phone. “What? I’m a little busy right—OH, for crying out loud, I’ll be right there!”

The voice came back strong and irritable. “Right, you’ll tell her? Thanks a million, I gotta go.”

The line went dead. Allison stared at it in contemplation for a moment, then began to rifle through Vanya’s drawers for a pen and a piece of paper.

The Rose Tavern, seven sharp.

{}{}{}{}{}

The boys were all in the sitting room when Allison arrived home.

Five was fixing himself a margarita, and Diego was sprawled across the sofa sharpening a knife. Klaus sat on the floor eating Funfetti frosting directly out of the container, eyes glued to the television he had dragged downstairs. Luther stood in the middle of the room holding a tomato.

“I’m not saying it doesn’t look good,” Diego was telling him, “I’m just saying that you spent five million hours out there, and you have one single vegetable to show for it.”

“It’s a fruit,” Five called.

Diego rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

Luther caught sight of Allison and his face brightened. “Look!” He held out the tomato. “It’s from the backyard.”

“That’s great!” she told him as she strode over to the couch. “Best tomato I’ve seen all day. Did you guys know Vanya’s in a band?”

Luther’s smile slid off his face to be replaced by a puzzled frown, and Klaus tipped his head back to look at her upside down.

“Ooh! What kind of band?”

“I don’t know.” She rested her elbows on the back of the sofa. “I was at her apartment and some guy called to remind her they have a show tonight. She wasn’t there, so I left her a note.”

“Weren’t you going shopping together or something?” Diego didn’t look away from his knife, but there was a rough edge to his voice. “She ditch you again?”

Allison hummed vaguely. It was hard for Vanya, she knew. Even if the world hadn’t ended this time around, knowing that it once had, and because of her, weighed heavily. Her guilt would ease with time, Allison hoped, but until then, they could only be patient.

“I thought maybe we could all go see her play,” she suggested. “I found out when and where it is.”

“I bet it’s like, a goth band,” Klaus told the empty space next to him. “You know, everybody in the audience does that weird swaying move like the crypt keeper or something?”

Five zapped into an empty armchair with his drink. “If she didn’t invite us, I don’t think she wants us there,” he said.

Diego scoffed. “Since when do you give a shit about what anybody else wants? You just don’t feel like going.”

“Not true,” Five said mildly, giving his margarita a stir. “I’d love to watch Vanya play.”

The rest of them exchanged uneasy glances. For the most part, Five was just as short-tempered and sarcastic as he’d been when they were children, but this matter-of-fact affection he displayed every so often was new. It was a weird look on him.

“Well, if it’s in a public place, there’s no reason we can’t go, right?” Luther said, glancing to Allison for support. “Maybe…. maybe she’d like it if we surprised her.”

“Ahh, yes,” drawled Five. “If there’s anything Vanya loves, it’s a surprise.”

“I did leave her a note,” Allison argued. “She’s going to know I found out. It won’t be a complete shock.”

Vanya wouldn’t ask them to come to her shows, anyway. They could show up unannounced or never.

“I’m in.” Klaus licked a stray dollop of Funfetti off his knee. “And Ben’s in, too, so you’re outvoted, Mr. Grumpypants.”

“Seriously, man?” Diego glared down at him. “Didn’t she _just_ bail on going to the carnival with you? And now you’re going to drop everything to go to her thing, which she didn’t even bother telling us about.”

Klaus made an exaggerated pout. “Aw, is someone still mad their little sister wouldn’t go to the gym with them? You can let it all out here, champ, we’re listening.”

Diego’s eyes flashed, and he pointed a knife at him. “Don’t start with that ‘champ’ shit today, I’ve fucking told you—“

“Alright, alright, break it up,” Allison interjected. “Vanya’s show is at seven at The Rose Tavern on 29th street, and I think it would be nice if we all went, but—“

Diego turned to her sharply. “The Rose Tavern?” he demanded. “That place is a total dive.”

“Not even the fun kind,” Klaus agreed with a look of distaste. “White trash jamboree up in there.”

“Oh.” Allison looked between them. “Is it… safe, do you think?”

“No!” Diego cried, at the same time Klaus said, “Oh, yeah.”

Diego turned to glare at him, and he shrugged. “It’s not like, _dangerous_. It’s just kind of gross.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “It offends my elegant sense of style.”

“We can all see your nipples through your shirt,” Luther pointed out helpfully.

“Now we have to go,” Diego said crossly. He swung his legs around to the floor and cracked his neck. “That place _is_ dangerous, and we can’t let her get murdered.”

Allison threw a look of concern to Klaus, who rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Five sighed and drained his margarita. “If she gets angry, I’m going to say that you all told me we were going out for pizza.”

{}{}{}{}{}

Klaus wasn’t wrong about The Rose Tavern being kind of gross.

It was dark and cramped, and the smell of many generations of cigarettes hit Allison in the face like a brick as soon as Diego opened the door. A cracked TV played the baseball game on mute, and a scrap of cardboard taped to the smudged mirror behind the bar warned them that it was “CASH ONLY!!!!”

“There’s not many people here.” Allison bit at her lip in worry. She hoped Vanya’s show wouldn’t be a wash, but what could you expect for a Tuesday night? They’d been right to come—at least she’d have _some_ fans.

“No stage, either,” Luther observed, scanning the small tangle of people around the pool table at the opposite end of the room. “We couldn’t have missed them, right? It’s only eight, don’t they have to set up and stuff first?”

“One little cocktail,” Klaus was muttering to an invisible Ben. “One shot of tequila? Come ooon, it’s rude to go into a bar and not order anything!”

Diego slung an arm around his shoulders. “You, stick with me,” he commanded.

Klaus sighed and cast a longing look at the tap, but nodded.

“Yo!” A middle aged bartender had cruised down to talk to them. “The kid’s gotta go. We don’t serve food here.”

A tight grin spread across Five’s face. “Who would have thought this fine establishment would be so averse to contributing to the delinquency of a minor?” he asked through his teeth.

Allison took a seat at the bar and flashed a winning smile. “We’ll keep an eye on him,” she promised. “We’re just here to see our sister play.”

The bartender leveled her with a flat look. She was ready to rumor him if she had to, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Not the most wholesome start to an evening of family bonding.

“I can’t think of what the name of her band is, but her name’s Vanya. And there’s someone else in it called Jim? Are they here yet?”

“Band?” he asked, his brown creased in befuddlement. “I don’t know anything about a band. Jim’s the captain of the pool team we’re playing against tonight, is that who you’re looking for?”

“Uh…”

“JESUS CHRIST! EDDIE, YOU SHITBIRD!”

Allison looked to the pool players in alarm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Diego reaching for a knife.

A portly man in a green T-shirt was gesticulating wildly with his beer, while a similarly-dressed teammate stood off to the side with a hang-dog look. “One more ball! One _fucking_ ball and the easiest shot in the world, and you—“

The player in blue circling the table paused and lowered himself into position. He sank the 8-ball with a resounding ‘clunk.’

“Oh, and there he goes, he made it! We lose another match! Excellent work, Eddie, remind me to buy you a drink later!”

He took a step back from the bar to reveal the person sitting in the very last seat.

“How many points total is that, Vanya?”

Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, and her face looked serene as she ticked something off on the spreadsheet in front of her.

“Five for them, one for us.”

The man threw a hand up over his head and stomped off to lay into the unfortunate Eddie some more.

Allison gawked for a moment, then turned back to the bartender with as composed a smile as she could muster. “Found her! Thanks.”

She grabbed an indignant Five by the elbow and dragged him down to the end of the bar, the rest of their siblings trailing after them.

Vanya didn’t see them straight away, too focused on the form she was filling out, but she looked up and did a double-take when Allison hopped into the seat next to her.

“Hi!” Allison said brightly.

Vanya’s eyes widened as they moved over her brothers. “Uh… hi. Why are… What are you guys doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t get yourself killed,” Diego told her grimly.

Allison laughed and gave him a backhanded slap across the stomach, a little too hard to be playful. “We came to see you play,” she said. “I guess you found my note?”

“You came to watch me play pool?” she asked slowly, looking from one sibling to another in confusion.

“Allison thought you were in a band,” Five volunteered. He rocked back on his heels. “Allison should probably get her facts straight before she starts spouting off nonsense, huh?”

“There wasn’t really time to discuss details over the phone,” she protested. “I heard ‘play,’ and I just assumed—“

“It’s fine.” Luther put a heavy hand on her shoulder and shot Five a reproving look. “I would have thought the same thing.”

“ _What_ she’s playing is irrelevant, it’s _where_ she’s playing that’s the problem.” Diego glowered at her and waved at the mostly-deserted bar. “Do you want to get stabbed? Is that what this is? Because we can go home right now and I’ll stab you myself in the comfort of our own living room.”

Klaus tugged urgently on Diego’s sleeve. “This just in from Ben: Have a beer and stop acting like a freak.”

“I can’t have a beer,” he said, like the very idea of ordering a drink at a bar was ludicrous. “I need to keep my wits intact and my reflexes sharp.”

Five grabbed a cigarette butt from a nearby ashtray and flicked it in his face.

“Don’t you touch those!” the bartender called in warning.

“You guys came to see me play music?” Vanya asked softly. Her mouth was slightly agape, but her expression was otherwise muted in the way that was so typical of her. If Allison hadn’t known her from birth, she would have missed the little quiver in her voice.

She shook her head as though to clear it and turned to her sister. “I’m… sorry about earlier.” Her mouth twisted in a pitiful attempt at a smile. “I went to get groceries, and I just… lost track of time, I guess.”

“No problem.” Allison reached out and covered one of her hands with her own. She smiled too, big and heart-felt. “There’s always next time.”

Vanya lowered her gaze briefly to her lap.

“Well,” she said huskily to the assembled group, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no band. Just… this.”

The madman in green—he must have been Captain Jim, Allison thought—was engaged in a slap-boxing match with the much-maligned Eddie in one corner of the bar. A member of the other team was warily inserting a pool stick between them in an effort to break it up.

She twisted her hands around in her lap. “So, thanks for coming, but you can go now. If you want.”

Diego snorted and dropped into a seat. “Not a chance.”

“Might as well stay now that we’re here,” agreed Five. He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced around the room without much interest. “Free soda.”

“Ooh!” Klaus turned to Luther. “I bet you five bucks Vanya wins!”

“Why would I bet against her?” Luther asked with a frown. “That’s mean.”

“You don’t have to bet against her. I bet you five dollars she wins, and you can bet me _ten_ dollars she wins.”

“…What?”

“Vanya!” Probably-Captain-Jim barked, without breaking eye contact with his opponent. “You’re up next.”

“Oh. Oh, I have to…” She gestured awkwardly behind her, and got up out of her chair with a horrific scraping sound.

Allison leaned on her elbow to watch to the proceedings. Vanya squared off shoulder-to-shoulder with a young guy in one of the blue shirts at the end of the pool table, the overhanging light casting a sickly yellow glow over their faces. Two balls were lined up in front of them.

“One, two, three, go,” someone intoned.

They both shot hard and fast, and the young guy’s ball ricocheted into a side pocket. Vanya’s rolled slowly back towards her.

Captain Jim clapped her hard on the shoulder. “We break,” he declared gloatingly.

“Wait, is that good?” Klaus hissed into the space between his siblings’ ears. “Did Vanya do something good? How does this work, even? …Someone? Anyone? Bueller?”

“Shhh!” Five explained.

As the game progressed, two things became apparent.

One: the rules of amateur pool were far, _far_ more complicated than any of them had guessed.

And two: Vanya was crushing it.

She would slouch around the table in her usual way, diffident and uncertain. She frequently tested out shooting positions with that ambiguous frown puckering her mouth. She would shrug and tilt her head and cast nervous, apologetic looks at her team, and then all of a sudden her eyes would focus and she would make a shot.

She sank them, more often than not. Her every stroke with the pool cue was more decisive than any sentence she had ever uttered.

“She’s going to win,” Luther murmured in wonder next to Allison’s ear. “She’s _good_.”

She sank the 8-ball, and her siblings uttered a delighted unanimous cry. Her teammates seemed less impressed—one clapped twice, and another muttered “Go, go, Girl Player,” under his breath. Her opponent began getting ready to rack again.

“I—!” Klaus swung around in his seat to look at them all. “She won, though, right? Vanya wins?”

“Naw. She won the game, but the match isn’t over yet.” The bartender had propped himself up on an elbow right in front of Five. “She’s gotta win three games before he gets to two.”

“What? Why?” asked Deigo. “That isn’t fair.”

The bartender shrugged. “That’s how the ranking system goes. Welcome to the APA.”

The second round went much the same as the first, and this time Vanya’s teammates were a bit more enthusiastic when she sank the 8-ball.

“One more to go,” Diego said, his leg bouncing in anticipation, while Klaus squealed and clapped his hands.

Vanya broke again.

This game was going faster, as her opponent was clearly getting frustrated. He missed a shot that looked easy enough from where Allison was sitting, and during his next turn, put so much force behind his stick that the 8-ball bounced against the side rail and landed on the floor.

Someone in green whooped, and there was a smattering of applause.

“Dumbass,” Five said with obvious relish, and the bartender grunted his agreement.

Vanya turned and flashed them a timid smile, face flushed and eyes sparkling.

“Whoo, Vanya!” Klaus cheered as she made her way down to where they were sitting. “You won! I think! This game is kind of confusing!”

“I won,” she confirmed. “On a technicality, but yeah.”

“No, you were great!” Allison flung her arms around her with a laugh. “I mean, Vanya—wow!”

“Yeah,” agreed Luther. “I’m pretty sure you were going to beat that guy either way.” He cleared his throat, and added a little awkwardly, “You’re really good.”

Vanya blushed and looked down at her pool cue, but was spared from coming up with a response by the bartender.

“Alright,” he interjected loudly. “You’ve seen her play, now somebody take this one home.” He jerked his head at Five, whose knuckles began turning white around his soda glass.

Klaus hopped out of his chair. “Let’s go, little guy! If you’re good in the cab, I’ll make you some chocolate milk before bed.”

His tone was as flippant as ever, but there was something strained in his face. Allison felt a little niggle of guilt. This adventure couldn’t have been easy for him.

“I’ll drive you guys,” Luther offered. He looked from Allison to Diego with a question in his eyes.

“I want to watch the rest of the matches,” said Allison. She leaned over and stole a sip of Five’s drink. “I kind of want to see what happens.”

Diego crossed his arms. “I’m on security detail,” he said stiffly.

“…Okay. Thanks, Diego.”

They said their goodbyes, Klaus passing on the message that Ben wanted Vanya to teach him to play once he could be corporeal long enough, and Five informing her that he would have liked to stay, too, if this bar wasn’t run by a bunch of _fascists_.

Once they were gone, Allison ordered herself a screwdriver and turned to her sister.

“Okay,” she said, “you have to explain to me what this thing where both players shoot at once is about, because we were all sitting here with _no_ idea what was going on.”

Vanya explained it to her, and showed her a little of how the scorekeeping worked. She told her whenever someone had made a particularly impressive shot, and gave her a quick rundown of the ranking system. Whenever one of her teammates approached, she would crane her neck down over the scoresheet, and kept her answers brief.

It wasn’t the most interesting stuff in the world, but Allison kept asking questions. Diego, too, would jump in from time to time, usually to show off the fact that he knew some of the terminology.

A screaming fight broke out between two of Vanya’s teammates during the last match of the night, intense enough that both captains and the bartender and Diego ran over to defuse the situation.

Allison leaned in to Vanya, who was peacefully tallying up points.

“Vanya,” she said, with mingled amusement and awe, “Vanya, your teammates are a bunch of crazy people.”

Vanya’s mouth twisted in an apologetic half-grin and she shrugged one shoulder. “They take this really seriously.” She paused, and then confessed, “We lead the whole league in sportsmanship violations every year.”

Allison laughed, because the alcohol was really making this situation a whole lot funnier than it probably should have been. “Well, I kind of like it! It’s nice to know we’re not the most dysfunctional people in the room for once.”

Vanya’s shoulders tensed, but she let out a small, guilty laugh. “Yeah.” She toyed with her pen. “It’s… yeah.”

In the end, Vanya’s team lost by two points. Diego hurried her and Allison out the door, away from the fireworks that were sure to kick off again.

“Unreal,” he complained as he hastened them out into the warm night air. “Where did you find those clowns? You need to start telling me when and where your games are, because you could get kidnapped straight out of the bar and they’d be too busy fighting over pool sticks to even notice.”

Allison saluted him and started giggling. “Safety first!”

“Un. Real.” He repeated through gritted teeth.

They found a cab and dropped Vanya off at her apartment. Allison tried to talk her into coming back to the house with them, but she had an early lesson in the morning, she said.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” she told them through the open window of the cab. The breeze ruffled her hair, and her face was lit eerily by the streetlight she stood under. Two large dark eyes in a porcelain mask.

“Sure. It was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah. Cool.” She shuffled her feet a bit. “Uh… So, tomorrow I teach most of the day, but I’m free after ten a.m. on Thursday. If… if you wanted to do something?”

Something in Allison’s chest fluttered. “Yeah! Yeah, I’d love to. I’ll call you tomorrow? So we can figure something out?”

“Yeah.” She straightened up, but didn’t step back. “Sounds good.”

“The meter is still running, if anyone was wondering,” Diego announced sourly.

Allison kicked him in the backseat. “Goodnight, Vanya. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

As the cab pulled away, Allison turned around to watch through the rear window as Vanya made her way to the sidewalk. Shadows slipped over her body almost like living things, or maybe like she was one of them.

“What do you want to bet she doesn’t pick up when you call?” Diego muttered.

Allison hummed. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe she would.

Patience.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably in the top ten stupidest stories on this website, but I got the idea for awkward lesbian pool shark Vanya, and it just wouldn't let me go. I also love the idea of Luther being super into gardening, but just, like, terrible at it.
> 
> I'm going to add more snapshots to this series as time goes on, and they WILL all be as bizarre and pointless as this one, and you CAN'T stop me. Good night!


End file.
